


1. You Were Right About Me

by TailgatesHarem



Series: UNLove Me Dysfunctional Pairing Challenge [1]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, just a ficlet drabble, poor flying baby is introspective about his own madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TailgatesHarem/pseuds/TailgatesHarem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night Starscream reflects on his efforts and the war thus far. <br/>Done for the UNLove Me Dysfuctional Pairing Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Were Right About Me

Silent as the grave, Starscream sat in the abandoned lab, his clone’s bodies scattered to the floor haphazardly. He stared out into the distance with a vague, empty expression in his dulled optics. There he sat in the dark, wondering if it was even worth the comm to the Autobots for brief, if not abrasive, company. He thought better to just sit there rather than confront another failure. It was better in the dark silence.

Finally the flier understood why Knockout kept his social appearances to a minimal after Breakdown’s death. In the dark you don’t face anyone or anything. It’s numb silence and there you can brood without interruption. For whatever the medic was feeling some spark of empathy had reached out to the usually callous jet. Even so, emotions were not completely out of reach.

Starscream thought of Megatron and how often he’d lectured the catty second-in-command. He thought of what the massive gladiator had said to him and rested his crested helm on his knee joints with a sigh through his vents.

“You’re a selfish, undermining sparkling who wants nothing but the destruction of a long built cause!” He’d once snapped, throwing the jet to the ground with a bellow. “What do you gain but your own destruction from trying to take this from me, eh, Starscream?”

The jet could still feel those cold claws digging into the cables of his neck. It was a dangerous place, so close to Megatron. Some over the years had admired his strength and power, but the jet knew its volatile nature. It was potential nuclear meltdowns wrapped in frightening control. He was maddeningly inspiring. How few mechs could hold their own against such a giant; to take down Megatron was a true entitling accomplishment of its own. Perhaps… perhaps that’s why Starscream wanted the end of the war lord so dearly. Or… was it an act of betrayal?

“For all the infinite worlds in the great span of space there is but one that matters, Star,” Megatron had said in his gentler hours. “I want to make a world where neither of us suffer… I want to make a world where classes dissolve in the rust pits with the corpses of the senators who damned us to them…”

And yet, just years later things were completely different. That patient, strong-willed, and protective spark had withered and died with rage. Neither Prime nor Megatron had realized the tremors they were feeling was not the oncoming storm, but aftershocks of the great cataclysm of the war. What they were fighting was petty battles over energy sources and territory. This wasn’t a brave undertaking to correct a mistaken social structure. This was needless chaos. No goals, no ends, and the only means was deaths by the sweeps. But that was good enough, wasn’t it? As long as Megatron thought there was war to be had there was a chance to destroy him… a chance to reclaim the power and bring true, meaningful, vengeful chaos to the withered sparks of those who still fight for the senate. What they did… whatever they got, they deserved it. Spilt energon running through the carved metal world and the groan of falling cities like a cry from the planet itself: that… that is beauty.

_You’re a selfish, undermining sparkling who wants nothing but the destruction of a long built cause…_

Even so, in the end, it seemed that’s really what the flier wanted. Burn it all to the ground. Rip the sparks out of those righteous Autobots and hang their corpses like decorations at the entrance to a new world. And in the middle, a centerpiece of the gore, Megatron’s bloodied frame…

But then… that would make the gladiator right about Starscream… and you could never have that.


End file.
